


The World in a Grain of Sand

by jezzberry



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yoga, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3509465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jezzberry/pseuds/jezzberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himchan finds the ocean in Daehyun's eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World in a Grain of Sand

Daehyun breathes. In, out. His fingers burn where they make contact with the flesh just above Himchan’s hips, but he only presses harder to steady the man. Himchan is wearing dress pants, and the way they mold to his thighs as he curls his body backward has Daehyun chanting in his head _don’t look don’t look don’t look._

 

Daehyun doesn’t get many drop-ins. The studio allows them, so long as they pay up front, but it is a Tuesday, and Daehyun only teaches advanced classes. Tuesdays are slow in every sense of the word—it is the beginning of the week and yet just a day away from the middle, and the middle means it is just a little away from the weekend. Tuesdays, the studio is closed before six in the evening and again after eight, when Daehyun’s class ends. There are five people on his roster, but only two or three ever make it. Daehyun knows this, and it is exactly why he schedules his classes on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sunday mornings. Daehyun prefers to teach one on one, but he hasn’t got enough experience yet and knows that at his level, the pay wouldn’t be enough to support him, so he settles for small lessons under an equally small, but much more popular, yoga studio.

 

Himchan exhales and bends backward several inches more. Daehyun can’t figure out whether he wants to touch Himchan’s lower back or not, but does so anyway because support is part of his job. He lets one hand shift from Himchan’s hip to cup the bend in his back. Daehyun’s palm is warm but Himchan’s skin is warmer—it radiates heat, in fact. The thermostat in the room is set to a moderate seventy-two, yet even in a flimsy white tank top, Himchan exudes the warmth from Daehyun’s intense teaching.

 

Himchan came in dressed in a suit. Daehyun instantly notices his cool aura, the way he holds his head high and his back straight, and feels himself shrink in the other man’s presence. His tie is a pale periwinkle, made of silk, and his heeled shoes are polished to a dark shine. His wrist is decorated with an expensive watch. Daehyun deduces that Himchan is an important man, privileged only because he has worked hard to reach the position he is in now. Daehyun can’t help the way his gaze follows each fluid movement as Himchan loosens his tie and sheds his suit jacket first, revealing strong shoulders and a defined body. Every article of clothing fits him as though it were sown to his measurements.

 

Daehyun shifts and tries to close his eyes. He had been meditating before, but Himchan’s arrival had thrown him off course. The rustling of clothing pauses, and curiosity has Daehyun opening one eye. He nearly stops breathing. Right there and then, Daehyun realizes that Himchan is exactly his type.

 

Himchan has large hands but graceful, deft fingers, and unbuttons the collared shirt tucked into his pants all the way to the bottom. He slips out of it and lays it beside his suit jacket, on top of which he then drops his watch and tie. The shoes are next, left by the far wall with Himchan’s socks balled inside. All that is left is the undershirt and the pants. Himchan moves to the other side of the room to grab one of the extra mats provided by the studio. Daehyun remembers that he was trying to meditate.

 

In, out.

 

Daehyun gives up on meditation and stands once one of his regular students steps inside the room. She is a young woman nearing her thirties, with dark, shoulder length hair twisted into a low bun. She smiles politely at Himchan and greets Daehyun cheerfully.

 

Himchan has set up his mat in the very center of the tiny room, prepared with blankets, a strap, and a foam block. Everything in the room is pink, because Daehyun inhabits the Rose Room. There are four rooms in the studio, each named after the respective color of its carpets. As a sort of joke, the rest of the props in the rooms—blocks, straps, mats—also match with the carpet. The Rose Room is by far the smallest, but it is also the warmest and the furthest away from the highway outside. Daehyun likes it, and he thinks that the color suits Himchan. It cushions his sharp edges.

 

“Hi. I’m Jung Daehyun. I’ll be teaching today’s class.” Daehyun may still be on his last year of college, but he’s been working at the studio for going on three years, and at least he’s learned how to be professional.

 

“Kim Himchan.” Himchan takes his offered hand with a curt nod, and they shake.

 

“Is there any particular reason you have dropped by today? Anything you would like to work on specifically?”

 

Himchan considers this for a moment. “It’s been a long day. If there is something you know to relieve stress, that would be greatly appreciated.”

 

Daehyun had figured as much. He knows exactly what Himchan wants, and has to admit he is a little excited to show Himchan that he is capable of satisfying the other’s needs. Himchan is the kind of person that demands high quality performance without a word, but says it all with his eyes and his presence. Daehyun wants to please him, for some odd reason, so that Himchan looks back on the class and thinks it very helpful.

 

They start with balance. Himchan struggles with this, as Daehyun had guessed.

 

“Balance is equilibrium. To achieve balance you must be equal not only in the weight on each side, but on the inside, as well,” Daehyun explains. “If you have trouble with physical balance, start first with your inner equilibrium.” He speaks to the entire class, but hopes that Himchan is listening the most.

 

They move on to sun salutes, at least ten of them, and then twists that loosen the muscles around the spine until Daehyun deems his class to be ready for backbends.

 

Himchan is in the final stages of camel pose, _ustrasana._ Daehyun follows with him as he lowers himself all the way to his pink mat and bends his arms at the elbow to support himself. His chin falls back and Daehyun is face to face with Himchan’s pronounced Adam’s apple. He holds back a shiver.

 

Daehyun lets go once he thinks Himchan has it by himself, and steps back so that the rest of the class can see the pose. Himchan’s body forms the hump of a camel, forearms and everything below the knee pressed to the floor. He is arching to the ceiling, tank top showing his stomach because it isn’t long enough to compensate for the intense stretch.

 

In, out.

 

Himchan unfolds slowly, carefully. Daehyun is there to steady him, palm pressed flat to Himchan’s back as he raises him into thunderbolt pose. Daehyun gives Himchan another few moments in child’s pose to rest, and then they move on.

 

When the class ends ten minutes later than scheduled, Himchan is the last to leave. He dresses slowly, languidly, and puts away his mat and props even more so. Daehyun has his things packed up in a small duffle bag, and busies himself flipping through a book. He waits for Himchan to put everything away so that Daehyun can close the door behind him. The book is a weak distraction, and Daehyun still catches himself trying to watch Himchan’s movements.

 

“Thank you for the class today.” Himchan says. Daehyun noted earlier that his voice is like sandpaper.

 

“You’re welcome. Did it help at all?”

 

“Yes, actually. It was marvelous.”

 

Daehyun beams. He doesn’t mean to, but the praise hits home and he can’t stop smiling. “I’m glad.”

 

*

 

Himchan is observant enough that he doesn’t miss the way Daehyun’s gaze latches onto him from the very beginning, but he doesn’t think that Daehyun notices that Himchan returns the action on his part. Daehyun is a tiny thing, Himchan realizes. He’s small already when he’s sitting cross-legged on his mat, but when he stands, Himchan can see his trim waist and his delicate fingers and the way it seems like his sweater wears him, and not the other way around.

 

Himchan is enamored. He uses the moments when Daehyun is helping him into camel pose and so obviously trying not to look at his face to do exactly what Daehyun is not. Himchan takes in the smile lines at the corners of Daehyun’s eyes, listens to the way his soft breath escapes his lips and fans over Himchan’s torso without the boy’s knowledge. Daehyun has wide, curious eyes and feathery brown hair that falls into his eyelashes.

 

His voice is calm, like the gentle lapping of waves on a bank.

 

Daehyun is eager to please. Himchan sees that immediately. What Himchan asks for, Daehyun is more than willing to give. For attention, perhaps. Daehyun also likes to touch. He constantly weaves between the mats to adjust his students into a more accurate position with little nudges or soft hands. Himchan is on the receiving end of those touches just as often as the other students. Every bit of skin on skin contact lingers like an ocean breeze and lifts the fine hairs along Himchan’s arm.

 

Himchan sees the sun in Daehyun’s smile. It’s in his golden skin, glitters in his cheeks, and dances in his fingertips. Daehyun’s lips are seashells, and his teeth are made of pearls. Himchan finds the ocean in Daehyun’s eyes. There are vivid colors, flashes of bright fish and memories that fade and reappear with every sweep of his long lashes. His whispers are water.

 

Himchan goes home that day with more wrinkles in his dress pants than he can count and euphoria in each breath.

 

In, out.

 

He prepares a duffle bag with a change of clothes and his own mat, and throws it in the trunk of his car. Himchan thinks he’ll drop in again next Tuesday.

 

*

 

Daehyun notes with a good deal of pride that Himchan returns to his class the following week, and every week after that. Eventually, the receptionist at the front desk, a middle-aged woman who ran her own classes on the weekends, hands him a new roster. Toward the bottom of the list, an additional name has appeared. _Kim Himchan._

 

Himchan is prepared now. He brings with him a set of extra clothes that are better fit for yoga—loose sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a blue t-shirt—and changes out of his suit inside the Rose Room’s bathroom. There’s a bigger bathroom outside, in the hall, but either Himchan doesn’t know, or he prefers the one inside. Daehyun doesn’t think too much about it.

 

After the class ends, Himchan is still the last to leave. He is almost intentionally slow, and Daehyun has to deliberately bore holes into his book to avoid staring. They start to talk. It’s Himchan who initiates, who steps a little closer and asks the first question. Daehyun doesn’t know how to talk to Himchan in the beginning. He has to admit that he is a little intimidated by the tall man, by his ever-composed attitude and prim posture. He and Daehyun are different in many ways. Himchan demands attention the instant he enters a room, whereas Daehyun sails under the radar and isn’t noticed until he does something to make him stick out like a sore thumb. Himchan is reserved, while Daehyun is uninhibited, at least once he starts talking.

 

Daehyun discovers that Himchan has the fate of an entire software company resting on his shoulders. He’s only twenty-six, but is already the CEO of a well-known corporation and has thousands of people under him. Himchan never allows others to do his job. He hires people to sort out financial matters and other things out of Himchan’s expertise, but always makes sure that he has a hand in the process. Daehyun learns that Himchan is strict with his employees, but never cruel, and that he donates most of his money to charity.

 

Himchan, in his turn, finds out that Daehyun is getting closer to graduation, day by day. Daehyun is majoring in yoga therapy at the best college his parents can afford. He has lived a humble life, happy with what he has and willing to work for what he doesn’t. He likes to read but not his textbooks, and yet he’s memorized the Sanskrit name for nearly every pose in the book. Daehyun has traveled to India for a semester to study the very source of yoga, and is sure he’ll do it again sometime after he graduates. He’s already started saving up the money. Daehyun is aware that being a yoga teacher doesn’t pay much, but he’s also the kind of heartfelt person that values his inner happiness over the happiness that money can buy him.

 

Himchan also learns that Daehyun can make him smile with the kind of explosiveness of waves breaking on the beach. Daehyun is the kind of water that doesn’t drag Himchan down, clinging to his suit and leaving him cold and shivering in the wake. Daehyun is the kind of water that caresses Himchan’s skin with fingers of cool rivulets and the laughter of a bubbling stream. Daehyun is clear waters, warmed by the sun and free from pollution. Daehyun is a wave that is strong enough to lift Himchan out of the deep end when he’s drowning, and take him to the shores of another reality when Himchan needs it most. Daehyun is soothing, like the ocean that runs over his feet and lifts to his ankles in the stillness of a night illuminated by a cloudless moon.

 

*

 

Daehyun brings in a bag of thick, rounded stones. They are neither too large nor too small, and fit in the palm of a hand comfortably. Himchan observes the two that Daehyun has given him as they are passed to all of the students attending that session. The rock is a fathomless black that shines in the soft light of the room. It is smooth, no sharp edges, and shaped somewhat ovular, but a little less conformed. Himchan guesses that it is obsidian.

 

“Meditation is an essential part of achieving equilibrium within the soul,” Daehyun begins. “For most of us, meditation is difficult. You must completely clear the mind of any thoughts and focus on nothing and everything at the same time. It’s nearly impossible, if you ask me. I figure that there are different ways to reach peace of mind. Of course, something different applies for every person. But for me, I find that focusing totally on one, material thing, helps my mind calm,” he explains. Daehyun has his own two stones in each palm, and Himchan studies the way his thumbs run over the surface with every sentence.

 

“These stones are carved from obsidian, a mineral with many healing properties. It is said to banish evil. I’ve given you all two each, to accommodate all styles of meditation. If you meditate with your hands separate, you should have one stone in each hand to avoid imbalance. If you meditate with your hands together, you may use only one. Using both is fine as well.” Daehyun settles onto his mat, legs crossed. “When you meditate, you will focus on the stones, and nothing else. Feel the weight of them in your hands and let that weight ground you. As you can see on my stones, I chose to carve shapes that represent parts of me, or anything that I fancy. These can also help you center your thoughts on the images that you carved.”

 

The theme of the class revolves around focus. They meditate after every strenuous pose, attuned to the humming of their bodies and struggling not to let their minds run wild. Himchan finds that meditation is the most difficult thing he has ever tried to do. Given any chance, his thoughts automatically turn to the list of things he has to do—go shopping, (his fridge is empty, save for a half-finished pack of cheese and orange juice far past its expiration date) sign contracts, revise contracts, meet with groups that called for extra funding—the list went on.

 

Himchan’s eyes are closed, but the lids flutter like they are caught in the whirlwind of his mind and holding on desperately to not be tugged into the storm. Daehyun watches for a moment, then stands and goes to kneel in front of him. Daheyun’s presence is not unnoticed, and the young yoga teacher can see the way Himchan has to fight himself to not open his eyes.

 

Daehyun lets his fingers ghost over Himchan’s face, over the bridge of his sharp nose and to his eyes. His thumb rests carefully over the lid of Himchan’s left eye, brushing down to the lashes and over the cheekbone. He does the same on the other side, and his hands slid down to curl over Himchan’s wrists. Himchan’s eyelids noticeably cease their twitching.

 

“Relax,” Daehyun whispers. His tone is low so as not to disturb the rest of his students. “Focus on one thing. Just one.”

 

Daehyun’s touch is gentle and wispy. Himchan hones in on that feeling, listens to Daehyun’s quiet breathing and breathes in time with him.

 

In, out.

 

They stay connected, peaceful, until Daehyun rises from his knees and carefully arouses the class from their meditation with a small bell.

 

Himchan lingers after class, as usual. This time, Daehyun has a present for him. He pulls out a similar obsidian rock from his bag, and hands it to the man. This one is carved into, still smooth but for the images Daehyun has drawn in. Himchan turns it over in his hand. The grooves are painted thinly in gold, so that Himchan can make out the pictures clearly. He sees a beach, seashells and sunshine, and doesn’t hold back his smile.

 

“Can I see yours?”

 

Daehyun rummages inside his pockets and pulls it out. Their fingers sweep together, and Daehyun, unwilling to let the touch go, reaches for a piece of lint that has caught on Himchan’s fingernail, and picks it off. Daehyun’s stone is swallowed in the sea. The lines of his carvings are blue, and they shape a moon, the stars, and an ocean riled by the wind.

 

Himchan sees the message without having to be told.

 

“Would you like to go out for dinner?”

 

Daehyun looks surprised for a moment. He is shy and tentative, but his smile is bright and Himchan can feel the warmth of his body as they walk out of the studio together, fingers twining together hesitantly.

 

“I’d love to.”

 

If Himchan is the beach, then Daehyun is his ocean.

 

*

 

Daehyun is fluid against the sheets, like running water in every way. As the weeks pass and round into months, Himchan learns to mold himself like sand to fit in every one of Daehyun’s crevices as if he were made to belong. Daehyun smoothes out Himchan’s sharpness, erodes down the harsh edges of his personality like a stream over rocks.

 

Daehyun crashes against him with all the force of a tsunami, and Himchan feels the effect ripple all over him. Swept by the tides, Daehyun takes him up little by little during the day, but Himchan steals it all away again by night with kisses over every bit of skin he can reach. Daehyun rolls, arches, and curves, gasping for air whilst his rivers take all of Himchan’s oxygen in the same moment.

 

He is beautiful like this, with moonlight reflecting off of his surface and the droplets that line his skin. The sea is calm on the outside, but under it roils a heat that leaks into the air and snakes into anyone who dares to touch it. It scalds Himchan, but he doesn’t think for a second to let go. Daehyun is open, welcoming, knees and thighs closing around Himchan’s hips as the ever-composed man presses into him. Daehyun holds on, fingers digging grooves in Himchan’s flesh, and tries to ground himself. It’s nearly impossible as Himchan ruts in shallowly, sweat collecting in the dips along the length of his spine. Daehyun whispers like the breeze that accompanies the ocean, and chants rhythmically the way water laps at the nearest earth, moving to the beck and call of the moon. Himchan is his moon, tonight, his shore and his stars, and everything else he has. Daehyun moves to Himchan’s beck and call, twisting, trembling in his hold.

 

Daehyun is water, free and playful, open and willing.

 

Himchan rolls his hips, reaching deeper and deeper and shuddering every time Daehyun clenches tighter around him. Daehyun gasps, meeting each of Himchan’s thrusts. His thighs rub against Himchan’s hips with every movement, and Daehyun relishes in that additional point of connection. He keens as Himchan picks up the pace again, thrashing against the sheets. Himchan hoists him higher, holding one of his legs and murmuring words of praise. His head is hanging low, the tips of his hair brushing against Daehyun’s forehead as if he, too, is aching for just that little bit more contact.

 

Daehyun wraps his arms around Himchan’s neck, and they mold together perfectly. Water on sand, sand on water, swell of the ocean as the tide rises, recapturing of sand as the tide recedes.

 

In, out.

 

Daehyun cries out like the call of a bird on a beach, hips canting and body quivering. He writhes, dragged into his own whirlpool and unable to open his eyes in the brackish sea. Himchan, too, falls apart in Daehyun’s arms, sinking into his warm waters until they are both completely submerged.

 

The waves carry them back to shore gently, still entwined together. Daehyun smiles, breathless, and Himchan watches as the sea pulls back, back into Daehyun’s eyes, where it will always be. Fishes swim there, brightly colored with memories that they have both shared, and will never forget. Himchan rolls to the side, and they lie this way awhile, side by side like the ocean and its shore.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing, please consider leaving me a small tip on my [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/jezzberry)


End file.
